On a Tuesday...
my smallest and I rug up in our warmest gear.

and with our backpacks on our backs, we head into the forest.

 Over the wintry months we light a small fire.
We share some morning tea and a much needed hot drink,
and a row or two of our knitting.


After morning tea we wander through the forest to the kookaburra tree, the story spot, the horsey tree and the goodbye place.

In the depths of winter it is often hard to imagine getting out and spending a few hours in the middle of the forest, but we are always happy when we have.

I've never taken my camera along before. Some things are better experienced in the moment. But I'm really glad it was sitting on the front seat of my car yesterday and I did. Bush kinder has been such a wonderful part of our lives over the past few years, and I'm thrilled to have captured a moment or two.

I feel so anxious every time I think about Miss Pepper growing up and heading off to school next year. I feel the need to prolong these next few months. To embrace her childhood with everything I have. On bush kinder days I feel like I have succeeded.

See ya later,
bushy potato. xx

Yesterday afternoon, just after I made this dress and took these photos, we got a call about a bushfire that was burning seven kilometers away and threatening to head in our direction.

All of a sudden the last three years and one day disappeared and I felt exactly like I did last time we had a bushfire here. And then I looked around and realised everything was the same. This time, like last time, I had a pot of jam on the stove and lots of fruit in crates all over the floor. This time, like last time, I knew I had to get the washing off the line immediately so Bren could start the fire sprinklers. This time, like last time, I looked around at our home completely surrounded by forest and wondered who in their right mind would live somewhere like this? This time, like last time, I grabbed long clothes, sensible shoes, computers, cameras, chargers and baskets of crochet and kissed Bren goodbye and drove off to get the girls from school. This time, like last time, there was the familiar look of panic in some people's faces, the oblivious couples sipping wine outside cafes, the sound of sirens from every direction and the looooooooong queues at the petrol station. This time like last time I bought strange and random things from the petrol station after filling up. And this time like last time I tried to stay calm while answering a bazillion little kid questions while keeping an ear on the fire wireless and an eye on the CFA website.

BUT last time I didn't write a blog, I wasn't on the twitter or instagram or ravelry.

This time my afternoon was filled with emails and texts and tweets and ravmails and instagram messages. It sounds mushy but this time I totally felt comfort in my part of the online community. People were watching and cared.

I often wonder about my need to write a blog. I wonder why I feel the need to write about what I make and think rather than just going about my business of doing it.

Yesterday reminded me of the social in social media. Of the community. Of the feeling that we are all in this together.

Thank you.

Luckily yesterday's fire was contained after a few hours. In the heat and gusty winds of the next few days we are crossing our fingers and wishing for a safe and boring weekend.

Who would have ever thought safe and boring sounded so good?

So have you had a moment when you felt the social in social media? The community in the online community?
Do you find it comforting?
Do you remember why you blog?

Do you like my new dress? I made it from a piece of fabric Michelle sent me and some vintage lace scraps I hoard. After I finished it and tried it on I discovered it is see-through but luckily it fits and looks good with a black slip underneath.

Have a safe and boring weekend out there.
Bye! xx

Eight years ago when Miss Jazzy was born, farmer Bren wrote an email and sent it out to our family and friends;

Hi all,
I'm sitting here with my beautiful baby girl on my lap, listening to her tiny hiccups and watching her wonderful facial expressions.
She is just divine, an angel, a fairy.
She is 5 days old now.
She was born at 2.40 on Thursday 9-10-03 and was 7 pound and perfect.
Mum and baby are doing really well. They got back home last night and we are getting on with life with 2 kids.. WOW..
Indi is coping really well and will make a very good bossy sister..
If you didn't realize from the subject of this email we have named her
JARRAH 
Jarrah is the Aboriginal name for the majestic Eucalyptus marginata, native to western Australia.
Hoping you are well and as happy us we are..
All our love 
Bren Kate Indi & Jarrah.



Since that day we have been dreaming of taking our Jarrah to see the giant jarrah trees.


Last Thursday we took a drive inland from Bussleton and found ourselves first in Jarrahwood, then in the gorgeous Nannup and then in the middle of the forest in Bridgetown, Jarrah park.

We were hunting for Jarrah trees, the bigger and grander the better.


Most of the old growth forests in this part of Western Australia have been logged, but the women at the Nannup visitor's centre assured us we'd find some in the forest. To be honest we weren't even certain we'd recognise a jarrah tree but our Jarrah assured us she would.






And she did.







We had a wonderful day jarrah hunting that day. We all ran and skipped and danced and sang the whole way. After months of deserts and beaches, we all loved being back in the bush. It looked like home. It felt like home. We all agreed that at heart we are forest people.

And boy oh boy are we loving exploring southern western Australia.

Happy travels. xx

Hooking: An enormous flower. Two strands of eight ply held together, a six mm hook and a very sore elbow. Loving the chunky factor though.